


Black Box

by Askell



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Alien Technology, BDSM, Blow Jobs, Bottom Jason Todd, Daddy Kink, Egg Laying, Eggs, Forced Shaving, Genital Piercing, Immobility, Initiation, Kinky as fuck, Lactation Kink, M/M, Male Lactation, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multiple Sex Positions, Object Insertion, Objectification, Orgy, PWP, Sensory Deprivation, Sexual Frustration, Suction Cups, Urethral Play, ice cubes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-21 11:35:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17042981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Askell/pseuds/Askell
Summary: “Welcome, Faceless Men,” Roman greeted as he rose up, smoothing the lines of his suit. “Today, we welcome a new member in the Room. You all know the protocol and rules, as well as the punishment reserved to those stupid enough to break them.”The men snorted, already getting rid of their vests and drying their palms on their thighs. Some were chewing their lips, pupils dilated and back arched forward. They all nodded their agreement when Black Mask called for their attention.“Now, boys, let me reveal the goods.”





	Black Box

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't published anything in a while, so here's the kinkiest thing I've ever written.
> 
> The "mild dubious consent" tag is here because Jason knew what was going to happen and agreed to it, but not in as many details and without the possibility to protest once the scene had started. 
> 
> Don't forget to leave comments if you liked it!

Comfortably seated in leather chairs, the assembly of men smirked to each other as four sweating grunts deposited the heavy box on the ground. It was roughly four feet tall, and somewhere around six feet wide, made of an alien black material. On each sides, handles allowed it to be rotated as desired. There were several latches and buttons, suggesting more technology than one could have assumed at first sight. A single green LED light blinked on the top, next to a small control panel.

Every man knew exactly what the box was. One of the most well-guarded secrets of the False Faces, reserved only to its higher-ranking members. It was a test of willpower. It was a proof of loyalty. It was a demonstration, in all senses of the term. Each and every one of them had experimented the Box before, or they wouldn’t have been admitted into the room. Anyone who even suggested something happened with the Box in the Room would suffer a most painful death. On top of being denied Box privileges, which in most cases was incentive enough.

Red Hood had wanted to know about the Room first. The boy was a smart one, he had guessed on his own that whatever unfolded there had to do with Black Mask’s strange concept of climbing hierarchy. The boy was also ambitious, it seemed, as he successfully challenged trial after trial, and won his right to know. However, with Black Mask as with the Devil himself, one should always be careful what they wish for.

In the room, six men sat in round leather chairs on each side of the box, Roman Sionis presiding the assembly as the seventh on the edge of the circle. Red Hood was nowhere to be seen, which didn’t mean he wasn’t present. Every man knew exactly where the eighth member of the circle was. Their eyes were riveted on it.

“Welcome, Faceless Men,” Roman greeted as he rose up, smoothing the lines of his suit. “Today, we welcome a new member.”

A few mocking grunts answered him, the place buzzing with anticipation already. 

“You all know the protocol and rules, as well as the punishment reserved to those stupid enough to break them. Though it has never happened before, I insist on you not marking the box. It’s hell on earth finding one like this, have some damn respect for Art at least once in your lives.”

The men snorted, already getting rid of their vests and drying their palms on their thighs. Some were chewing their lips, pupils dilated and back arched forward. They all nodded their agreement when Black Mask called for their attention.

“Now, boys, let me reveal the goods.”

A few whistles and loud breath intakes accompanied the declaration, as Roman placed his hands on each side of the box. With a soft click, the control panel came to life, some hidden seams appearing as it moved up. The small screen showed a heart rate, diverse health informations, as well as ‘AWAKE’. Popping on the right side, a small pot full of clear liquid appeared at hand’s reach. One of the men groaned that it was discriminatory of lefties, to which Roman merely smirked and revealed a second one on the other side. The men acclaimed that new evolution of the box.

Indulging in his men’s doglike attitude, he finally pressed the ‘open’ button. The panels cleverly slid aside, opening like the wings of a butterfly. Inside, held still in plain sight by elaborate mechanisms, a smooth ass. As tradition demanded, it had been waxed completely, the skin worked by expert robotic hands to appear as pristine as possible. Aside from one thin scar they had not managed to get rid of, it was admittedly one of the most perfect backsides Roman had laid eyes upon.

One of his hands roamed on the pale expanse of skin, feeling the muscles shift uselessly under his touch. Aside from a visible twitch of his asshole, Red Hood was absolutely unable to move, see, hear or smell anything. If they needed his mouth, there were functions integrated in the box dedicated to that purpose.

But for now, it was usual for him to christen the offering, so to speak. Taking a lump of lube from the pot, making sure to show it to the assembly to tease their burning impatience, he then pressed one finger inside Jason. The crowd exploded in clamors. 

“I hereby declare the opening the 12th Box official!” he announced with a last twist of his hand before going back to his seat. “Jordan, I want you to stretch him with your tongue. And I don’t want to hear a protest, he’s the oldest member of this assembly.”

Jordan, a tall man with stereotypical ex-army features, graying buzz cut and wide shoulders, nodded as he kneeled in front of the displayed ass. His thick, scarred hands roamed over what they could of Red Hood’s thighs with an uncharacteristic gentleness. After all, that man had been the executioner of several Sub-Saharan warlords. Soft wasn’t exactly the kind of word people usually thought of when commenting his actions. Yet, there was nothing short of religious worship in the way he took the time to caress the exposed skin. Roman had chosen him for that specific reason. Not the petting, but the insane eroticism he could put in such simple gestures, effectively making their associates even more impatient.

When the strong, square jaw parted to reveal a large, wet, pink tongue, several men gripped their seats. Jordan kept his frustrating exploration, making sure to thrust lavishly into Red Hood before standing up. He went back to his seat wordlessly, imperturbable if not for the dangerous spark in his eyes. 

“Boss…” started their youngest member, a thin Asian man with androgynous facial features, who had been an absolute pleasure to keep in the Box. “We heard something about transparency?” Several men nodded, mirroring his foxy grin. “As nice as his ass looks, I’ve got to admit Hood has a too pretty face to keep hidden.”

Roman had a VIP view on said ass, knew all the new features his men could only dream of. Fingers drumming lazily on his armrest, he merely nodded in the man’s direction.

“Look under your seat first. You won’t see it yet, but trust me when I say this isn’t the only hole that is being played with as we speak.” He thought of all the suction cups which he knew must have been in place already, but had no insurance were. It was all part of the game, being aware of more than the others, yet not having seen it himself. 

It took the young man a few moments of intense confusion before he understood what the tubular object was used for. Then he found the eggs as well. 

***

Everything was absolutely dark and silent. Unable to hear anything or even move, Jason could only rely on his sense of touch. The previous tests had sometimes been humiliating, and he’d very rarely been informed of what would actually happen, forcing him to rely on his training and instincts. Nothing too difficult, for the most part. 

However, he knew he should have found another way to learn what happened in the Room. The thing was more defended than Fort Knox, and he’d suspected almost everything from high-class prostitution to human experimentation labs. When Roman had invited him to dine with his inner circle, Jason had began to suspect something more ritual, maybe even satanic. Every men had been weirdly polite, yet there had been something in the way they looked at him which made his hairs rise along his spine. 

After an example of how well Black Mask’s chef deserved his exorbitant salary, feeling drowsy from the booze and luxury food, Jason had sat placidly as they explained him the next trial would be a tad different. Nothing he wouldn’t recover from. Nothing anyone else would know about. A proof of loyalty, which was why they needed his full consent. 

He had almost said no, as a reflex. In his relatively short life, having orgies with seven men he barely knew neither figured on his bucket list nor was something he even considered possible. It was only through immense willpower that he remembered about his mission. So he’d accepted.

Jason had been trying to retrace the rest of his memories from the evening when something cold quickly went in and out of his asshole. Then, a few moments later, warm hands pressed against the back of his thighs. He stayed powerless, only able to feel the caresses as they climbed up his back, then parted his asscheeks. Wet and hot,what he guessed was a tongue started lapping at him and wow. What the fuck. 

Out of curiosity, he had watched gay porn before so he knew more or less what some… practices looked like. Being on the receiving end was a whole new thing. 

As his breath started to catch at the back of his throat, small lights flashing behind the back of his eyes in the complete darkness, Jason had to admit it wasn’t unpleasant. Far from it. His naked skin, held still as a rock by whatever strange substance was surrounding him, shivered restlessly. Too soon, the slippery tongue was gone.

Heaving, Jason also noticed something was applying some form of suction on his nipples. Sparks of pleasure coursed through his chest each time a minuscule movement shifted the cups. He barely felt a pricking sensation in the center, but was too absorbed in the waves of contradictory sensation to notice the liquid spreading through his veins. 

He’d never guessed he was into that kind of stuff, but his dick was definitely hard so he decided to try to enjoy himself as much as possible.

That is, until the thing breached his ass. It probably wasn’t a dick, felt rather cold and way too flexible for that, but it still slid easily into him. His walls clenched around the foreign object as it pushed deeper and deeper inside him. The sensation was _weird_. Again, not unpleasant but more uncomfortable than the previous thing. The stretch burned a bit, the way discovering new muscles during training did. His nipples ached as the suction sharply increased, tearing a throaty sound from him. A strange warmth creeped inside his pectorals, buzzed right under the skin almost painfully. 

They left him a few breaths to become acclimated to the dildo (?). Jason was starting to think things would go rather well when he felt something being pushed up the object. Then a second one. And a third, and a fourth. Had he been able to, Jason would have collapsed on the floor when the fifth ball was finally inserted in him. Made of a squishy, but solid material, they pushed his insides in wrong, but confusingly pleasurable ways. When a digit breached him again to push at the eggs (?), Jason shivered violently, clenching with all the strength he could to push them out. 

The finger receded, and he nearly cried when the first one slowly, achingly, got out. Already pushing at the second one, he felt the finger again, except this time several others poked at the stretched skin of his asshole teasingly, keeping him from pushing out. There was a even a tongue at some point, making all of his efforts void by reinserting the egg as soon as he could feel it poke out.

It was so humiliating, clenching his guts like he was having the worst kind of constipation, only to have the object kept inside of him. At first he naively imagined only Roman could see him, which was already mortifying. Remembering the six other men, horror downed on him as he wondered exactly how many people were watching him at the moment. At least they couldn’t see his chest, which felt swollen and heavy, probably from the suction cups being too eager. Lost in a mixture of humiliation, frustration and bone-shaking ecstasy, Jason let out a choked sob when they allowed him to get a second egg out. 

Just as he thought they had taken pity on him, he felt freezing metallic clamps take hold of the edges of his asshole before stretching him impossibly, painfully wide. A third and fourth egg easily slipped out. His mind was becoming hazy from all the hyperventilating. God, he wanted it to stop and never to end all at once. When all eggs were out, small lights danced behind his eyes from the exertion.   
His torturers must have taken pity on him because some kind of poultice was dutifully applied to his aching muscles, soothing and numbing the inflamed skin and muscles. Then came the first slap, while the clamps kept holding him wide open. Strained and winded, his own voice seemed foreign as it became the only sound he was able to hear. The slaps came and went with no particular pattern, aiming in random but excitingly painful ways. 

Warm tears rolled down his cheeks when several pairs of thankfully cold hands came to relieve some of the ache in the form of gentle caresses. Bless whoever brought ice cubes, even though they took a devious pleasure in rolling them way too close to his balls. Jason felt something open and close, revealing said balls to the audience he guessed, as they were suddenly assaulted with melting ice. It was a stark comparison to the fierce burn in his chest, which did not seem all that normal as minutes ticked by. 

There was no way for him to jerk away from the ice cube that was dropped in his exposed insides. The fiery cold presence was all he could focus on, as he wore he could feel it melt around his desperate attempts to get it out. The clamps were removed, making it impossible to do so. Tears rolled freely on his skin, pooling along the bridge of his nose and on his chin. He couldn’t even clench his hands. 

Yet, he had never felt so aroused before in his life. Not when he was a teenager unable to think of anything else, not when he came back to life and felt like the Pit gave life to his dick as well, not even when Batman had pinned him down for the first time. In the absolute darkness, not thinking about those moments became nearly impossible. Unoccupied, his mind went wild with fantasies. He didn’t he know he was attracted to so many people, genders and _oh fuck is that Deathstroke?_ , but apparently he was. 

Remembering Black Mask must have been one of the man currently spreading his ass lazily, Jason felt a new wave of electricity course through his abused nerves. Shit. That was hot. Mission be damned, Batman be damned, morality be damned, he came to realise he really did want the disgusting gangster to pound him until he lost all sense of reality. 

“R...Roman…” he moaned with abandon, unable to know if anyone heard him. Unable to know if thousands of strangers heard him. 

A loud whirring sound echoed all around him and all of a sudden his whole body was reversed, chest up and spine forced into an arch. A large object easily slid inside of him where it stayed put, not vibrating like he feared, but keeping him stretched to a point where he was unable to ignore it. Jason got the distinct impression that his nipples were out, from difference in temperature. They still felt warm and heavy, but not as painful as before. If he had to guess, his dick was out in the open as well. That knowledge sat uneasy in his belly, but he kept leaking generous quantities of precum all the same.

***

The men stared at the two fleshy mounds, hypnotized. Smaller than a girl’s, Red Hood’s pectorals were still significantly too swollen to look male. Semi-transparent beads pearled at the top of his raised, reddened nipples. Suction marks were still visible, but slowly fading as the beads became bigger and bigger, before one slowly rolled on the exposed skin. Several more created rivulets to pool on the black material of the box before one of the men reacted. Getting up quickly to ensure no one else would take his spot, the man pressed his fat lips to one fat nipple and sucked, hard. Underneath him, the skin rippled with a hard shake. From his spot, Black Mask could see Red Hood’s thick penis spring up as well.

While his men scrambled to suck the milk out of the young man’s tits, Roman took care of the neglected penis. He gave it one light shake with his gloved hands, knowing the Italian leather must feel like heaven to their prisoner of the night. Focusing on the leaking tip, he quickly found the little hole he was interested in. The thin metallic wand in his palm was inserted in Red Hood’s uretra with less resistance than he expected. Sitting back to admire his work, Roman couldn’t keep from smirking as he switched it on. As strong as the box was, there was still a small movement when the younger man’s whole body shook in reaction to the unexpected vibration. 

Curious, the men withdrew from his chest where they had left angry red biting and sucking marks to look at the small steel ball coming out from Red Hood’s dick. A few of them curiously poked at it, one dared a long suck while another took care Hood’s balls. They happily put clamps on the sensitive insides of his thighs before turning him over once again, this time revealing the small of his muscular back. 

***

Something vas pulsing madly _inside_ his dick. His nipples leaked, he could feel it. His ass had taken so many dicks he had stopped counting after the fourth. The skin of his thighs, back and underarms was on fire for being slapped, pinched, sucked at. What felt like liters of semen sloshed inside of him, held in place by an insanely large plugging device. 

They wouldn’t let him come. His body had known a lot of strange, unsatisfying half-orgasms, but nothing nearly enough. There was barely any spit left in his throat to beg. 

When they opened the box, he fell forward limply. 

“You’ve been doing very well, Hood,” called Black Mask’s imperious but paternalistic voice somewhere behind him. “But your trial isn’t finished.”

Opening his eyes took a lot more energy than he thought he had, but Jason still managed it. Seeing the circle of men sat around him, all with their pants unbuttoned and erections in plain sight, he didn’t have to guess what was the next step. Crawling up to the closest one, it took all his strength to reach his lap, where he stayed for a few seconds, enjoying the hand in his hair massaging his scalp. 

“Be a good boy, Hood, don’t keep Antonio waiting. Daddy will reward you if you’re good,” said Black Mask. 

From the powerful shiver that shook him, Jason guessed it was yet another kink of his he was unexpectedly revealing that night. That, and the thick ropes of milk coursing freely down his stomach, staining his thighs and the man’s pants. Feeling all those mouths on him had been as close to a religious experience as he could get.

“Come on, my boy,” murmured Antonio, stroking his cheeks.

Asked so nicely, Jason couldn’t not oblige. Soon he was bobbing up and down, in rhythm with the way Antonio pounded inside his throat. Compared to his previous experiences of giving handjobs, Jason felt more respected than used, which inexplicably turned him on. He didn’t get any warning before the man came down his throat, and didn’t have any time to recover before he was quite literally pulled onto another dick. His stomach was painfully stretched with semen when he finally came to Red Hood. 

The bastard amped up the vibration of the rod halfway-sticking out of his dick before roughly pushing it back. Shame and arousal pooled in his throat as he fought back tears. 

“Sit in daddy’s lap, my boy,” Roman commanded.

Still uselessly hiding his face in his shoulder, Jason complied. What choice did he have? It didn’t occur to him that he could have presented his back instead of sitting while facing the smug-looking crimelord, who managed to spread his thigh as wide as Jason could bear. It burned, and somehow made the milk spill in even greater quantities. It drenched his abs, was sticky where it had dried up. As if sensing his discomfort, Black mask took both tits in his palms and squeezed, hard. 

White and sweet-smelling, the milk splattered on his thousand-dollars suit. 

“Look at the mess you’ve done… bad boy,” Black Mask chastised, still fondling the tips of his nipples, spreading the liquid on his aureolas. “We will have to punish you, you know that boy?”

“I didn’t do it on purpose!” he managed to protest before Black Mask painfully twisted his nipples, releasing more milk on his expensive suit.

“What a badly educated boy.” Black Mask turned to the other man. “I don’t think this is a boy, more like a dog. Or a kitten. What do you think, John?”

Jason barely had the time to turn around before the plug was torn off his all, only to be replaced with another. From what he could see, it looked like a massive tail was coming straight out of his back. Rough hands seized his jaw to put what he guessed were animal ears on the top of his head, while Roman claspec a heavy collar around his neck. 

“Wait this isn’t what I agreed on!” 

A heavy silence fell.   
“You should read the finer print of what you sign more often, Hood. Now suck my dick, kitten.”

Jason thought about escaping. Dressed only in cat ears, with leaking breasts and hickeys on about every surface of his body, he wouldn’t even make it to the elevator. Besides, it was hard to think about anything else than compliance, when his arousal occupied about every single shred of sanity he had left. 

He wrapped his abused lips around Roman’s hardened dick, barely flinching where he felt piercings on his tongue. Three little bars running under his skin, only manifesting as six aligned beads teasing his palate.

Two more days to go.


End file.
